


Gravity

by orsumfenix



Series: Bluepulse Week 2016 [3]
Category: Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Conversations, M/M, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Post-Endgame, Seriously There's Lots Of Talking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-07
Updated: 2018-07-24
Packaged: 2018-08-16 18:17:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8112445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orsumfenix/pseuds/orsumfenix
Summary: Bart leaves the team. One year later, Jaime asks him to come back.





	1. Burn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Day 5: Season 3.  
> This Fic Is A Mess, but I enjoyed writing it even if there’s probably about fifty plot holes.  
> the songs that title each chapter are the songs I listened to on pretty much repeat whilst writing each one. Whether you listen to them or not doesn't impact your reading of the story.  
> This Song: [Burn](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v2oJ54ShzMA) by Cody Crump.

**Day Five: Season 3**

**_As we watch this world burn_**  
**_A simple truth, so hard to learn_**  
 ** _When things go wrong, it's hard to see_**  
 ** _It's not just you, but also me._**

_2020_

Jay Garrick’s funeral is held on the Watchtower, with heroes in black all standing in solemn silence.

Jaime shoots a worried glance at Bart for what must be the hundredth time. Bart himself just stays looking forward, silent and unmoving.

“We will all remember Jay Garrick, the fastest man alive, for as long as we continue our work. Goodbye, Jay. We hope you’re happy.” Barry steps away from the podium, face drawn. Jaime’s worried about him, too, even if they never really talk much.

The airlock opens, and Jay’s coffin is sent out into space.

Forever.

\--

“I’ve never worn a suit before,” Bart comments, picking at the edge of his sleeve. Jaime bites back a warning that he’ll ruin it. “Even when Wally – y’know.” Bart stops picking at one sleeve only to start on the other one. “It’s too tight.”

“You look nice, though,” Jaime offers. Bart shoots him a _look_.

“I didn’t even want to come,” he mutters, eyes averting towards the windows, where space is visible. Seeing Bart this serious is…strange. Jaime’s not sure he likes it. “Why should I? He’s having _another_ funeral for his civpilian – _civilian_ life tomorrow, because _apparently_ one isn’t enough. And guess who’s got to speak?”

Jaime raises a brow, adjusting his tie.

“You’re speaking at Jay’s funeral?”

“It wasn’t my idea.” Bart is silent for a few more moments, eyes still fixed on the stars. “Joan just sort of…brought it up, and I agreed because I couldn’t think of a good enough reason not to.”

“There doesn’t need to be a reason.” When Bart doesn’t reply, Jaime presses on. “You’re allowed to be sad, Bart.”

“I know. Of _course_ I know. You’ve told me a billion times!” A weird expression creeps across Bart’s face, virtually unreadable. If it wasn’t for the stiffness in his shoulders, Jaime would have a hard time discerning how he’s feeling. “I’m allowed to feel shitty about this timeline, even if it’s way more crash than the one I came from. I know, I get it. You’ve all said it.”

Jaime tries not to feel bad at Bart’s annoyed expression. He fails.

A slow breath escapes from him. He looks around, sees the solemn faces of people he’s watched saving the world. Iris has her arms wrapped around Joan, gently stroking her hair. It’s hard for everyone, Jaime thinks, but the Flash family has it the worst.

As if proving his point, Bart starts rocking backwards and forwards on his heels. Jaime tries to lighten his expression.

“Ants in your pants?”

“Jay used to say that.”

“Oh.” Fuck, Bart’s a landmine right now. “Bart, I’m sorry -”

Bart abruptly stops moving, tilting his head up to the ceiling. The stars are visible even up there, gorgeous even through the windows. Jay’s eternal resting place.

“I’m Zeta-ing back to the surface,” Bart states, eyes drifting back down to meet Jaime’s. “In the nicest way possible, don’t speak to me. I know I’ll say something shitty.”

Jaime pauses for a moment, then gives in and nods.

“Alright. But call if you need anything.”

A brief flicker of a smile shoots across Bart’s face, and he turns and walks away. Jaime watches him go, takes in the rare lack of speed and dejected posture. He bites his lip. It very quickly turns to chewing.

“Think he’s alright?” Cassie asks, appearing by Jaime’s shoulder. He tries not to jump, instead sighing.

“No.” Jaime forces a smile, rubbing at his eyes. “But it’s Bart, right? He’ll pull through.”

“I _guess_.” Cassie’s dress suits her, oddly, even if the awkward sleeves and ruffled bottom would look stupid on anyone else. “But – I don’t know. He’s cheery, yeah, but he’s still a _person_.” She watches as Bart Zetas away, encompassed by blue light. “Losing Jay…It must be tough.”

Jaime leans back, grimacing. The atmosphere is solemn. He’s not used to solemn.

“Bart says there’s another funeral for him tomorrow. A civilian one.”

“And he’s going to that too?”

“Yeah.”

Cassie is silent for a moment, eyes drifting over the crowd, before her attention snaps back to Jaime.

“Maybe you should go with him,” she suggests. At Jaime’s surprised look, she continues. “No, really. He probably needs support right now and I’m sure his family’s doing their best but you’re his _best friend_. Bart might not act like it, but he needs you.”

An awkward laugh forces its way out of his throat.

“I really doubt that, _esa_.”

“Just accept the compliment, Blue.” Cassie punches him in the arm. He knows it’s light for her, but is still kind of stings. Jaime tries not to be too obvious about rubbing it. “I don’t know about seeing him today, but maybe you could ask Mrs Garrick if you can go?”

Jaime pauses, looking over at Joan. She’s upset, but keeping strong. He appreciates that.

His nod is almost subconscious.

“I’ll – yeah, I’ll talk to her. See if she’s okay.”

Cassie stares for several seconds, analysing every inch of his face.

“You’re a good guy, Jaime,” she finally says, leaning over to squeeze his arm. “Stay that way.”

“Um -” But she’s already gone, moving through the crowd until she finds Conner and throws her arms around him. Huh. Does that mean they’re back together?

Jaime steels himself, and goes to find Joan.

\--

“Jaime?” Bart looks rightly surprised, shuffling and clearing his throat. “Uh, what are you doing here? In a – suit?”

Jaime takes a deep breath.

“I want to come to Jay’s civilian funeral,” he explains, adjusting his tie out of nervousness. “I asked Joan on the Watchtower and she said it was okay, so…”

Bart still looks flabbergasted, but he steps out of the doorway to let Jaime inside.

“I must warn you, we’ve run out of coffee.”

“That’s probably a good thing. I’ve seen you after drinking coffee, and trust me when I say that I never want to _re-_ see it.” Bart snorts, leading Jaime into the kitchen to lean against the kitchen counter. “How’s Dox?”

Dox is Bart’s golden retriever, the one that’s been around for about two years now. In that time he’s managed to grow from a small puppy to…Well, he’s certainly not a _puppy_ anymore.

“Dox is fine. He’s staying with Iris and Barry for a while. The kids love it. I bet you they try and steal him.”

Jaime tries to crack a smile. “Wouldn’t be a surprise.” He peers outside the window. There’s a bird in the tree. “What time does the funeral start?”

“In an hour.” Bart is very determinedly not meeting his eyes. “I’ll, um, get ready in a minute.”

“Same suit from yesterday?”

Bart doesn’t smile.

“Yeah.”

“Right.”

Once Bart’s gone upstairs and Jaime’s seated himself in the living room, he looks around. Jay’s shoes are still there, as is his coat and his hat and the paper Jaime knows only he likes to read.

Or rather – _liked_.

\--

“Jay was my hero.”

Jaime jerks at the words, looking up at Bart on the podium. Bart himself shuffles, scanning the crowd, before awkwardly continuing.

“He – took care of me when I didn’t have anyone else who could. He taught me things. He did what was best for me, even…even when I didn’t like it all that much. Jay did the right thing, always, for as long as I knew him. Now that he’s gone, I – um, never mind.

“Jay was just a really crash guy. I mean great. He was everything I aspire to be, and – I think he lived so long because he _deserved_ to. And he deserved to live for longer, too.”

Bart steps down from the podium. He doesn’t say anything more, but he sits beside Jaime and worms their hands together. Jaime tries not to blush, because he _knows_ it’s inappropriate and he _knows_ that Bart just needs comfort and he _knows_ that his… _crush_ on Bart is somewhat unrequited.

(Okay, so he _doesn’t_ know that. But it’s not like he’s ever had the courage to _ask_ , not after what happened in 2018.)

“You okay?” he murmurs out the corner of his mouth once Joan starts speaking. Bart doesn’t vocally reply, but nods and squeezes his hand.

Jaime doubts that it’s true, but he lets it go.

\--

A few months after Jay Garrick’s death, Artemis and Kaldur get married.

Jaime can’t afford a new suit, so he goes with the old one, trying not to feel like he’s tainting the happiness. Bart has a new white one, and he’s laughing and smiling and _okay_.

“Hey, Jaime.” A finger pokes his stomach. Three guesses as to who it belongs to. “Take a picture with me.”

Before Jaime can respond Bart’s holding up a cheap-looking camera and snapping a shot of the two of them. The flash almost blinds him and he blinks rapidly, trying to dispel the remaining traces of light from his vision. Bart snorts.

“Bet you had your eyes shut.”

Unfortunately, Jaime’s pretty sure that Bart’s right.

During the ceremony itself Jaime isn’t ashamed to admit that he tears up. Bart spots it and, without outwardly saying anything, makes it abundantly clear how amusing he thinks this is. Mostly by faking tears and grinning at Jaime every few seconds.

Artemis and Kaldur kiss. Jaime stares. Why are they both so attractive?

“Her-man-o, is it just me, or do half the people here look like they want to leap up there and join in?” Bart mutters in his ear, voice sounding way too entertained for anyone’s health.

Well, at least Jaime’s not alone.

\--

Things are fine for a while. Jaime goes through life, worrying about Bart while trying not to and worrying about Milagro while being extremely vocal about it.

Another archer joins the team, a girl named Arrowette. She gets along with mostly everyone, but especially Cassie and Bart. Jaime smiles at her when he can. He barely even talks to most newer members of the team, which he should probably fix. He’s sure they’re good people, they just – didn’t fight through the Reach invasion.

Everything is good.

Until the Watchtower explodes, killing twenty-five members of the Justice League.

They should be glad it wasn’t more. Both the team and the League use the Watchtower as a base, but by happy coincidence many were on the surface when the explosion happens.

But twenty-five is still a lot. It’s still _terrifying_. Plastic Man, Troia, Animal Man…all gone in an instant. A mass funeral is held shortly after, and separate ones follow in rapid succession. Jaime attends all, and by the end he’s so exhausted he could sleep for days.

The world falls into a crisis for a while. Some villains respect the loss and stay quiet, like the Rogues from Central City. Others are less considerate and take advantage, and Jaime makes sure to punch those ones especially hard.

Bart seems to be getting exhausted, too. Jaime takes to offering quieter hangouts, ones that are just the two of them talking in one of their rooms. It’s nice.

They transform an old asylum into their new base, dark and only one-storey high. Jaime helps to do the inside up, painting the walls and cleaning the floors and installing Zeta-Tubes in storage rooms.

He tries not to think about how _tired_ Bart looks, and about how he’s not sure how much longer they can go on like this.

\--

At the end of the latest mission, Bart drops his cowl on the floor and _looks_ at everyone.

“I quit.”

Then he turns around and walks out of the door.

Everyone stares at Jaime.

“I’ll go speak to him,” he says. Kaldur scans his face solemnly before nodding. Everyone else shares uneasy glances with each other.

**[The Impulse went left.]**

_Kid Flash,_ Jaime responds on instinct, though he figures it’s pointless by now. Sure enough, he finds Bart in the briefing room on the left, spinning around on a chair.

Quietly, Jaime sits beside him. Neither of them speaks for a few moments.

“I really am quitting.” It’s Bart that breaks the silence, finally halting his spinning chair to face Jaime. “That wasn’t justaheatofthe moment thing. I’m being serious.”

“I know,” Jaime replies, because he really can’t think of anything better. “Is it because of the Watchtower thing?”

Bart resumes spinning on his chair, eyes fixed on the ceiling.

“Look, I came back to save the world, okay? And now that I _have_ , well…” Bart shifts, an odd expression taking over his face as his front comes into view. “You have to understand, Jaime – you grew up _normal_. Most heroes did. But I grew up in an apocalyptic wasteland where one wrong move could result in my _death_. And when you’re a hero…” He takes a deep breath, looking as though he’s trying to compose himself. “When you’re a hero, those odds are really similar. Dodge the wrong way in a fight, get there slightly too late or too early, and you could _die_.”

“So you’re quitting,” Jaime intones, the words sounding numb to his ears. Bart shoots him a shaky smile.

“Jaime, I know it sounds weird but…I don’t _want_ to die. And I figured that I’d be safer and happier with a quiet life in the countryside or – something like that.” Bart waves a hand, for once not breaking the sound barrier. “I’ve never been all that selfish before. So, that’s what I’m doing now. Putting myself first.”

Jaime tries to force a smile. It feels like bending his mouth the wrong way, but he’s fairly certain that it manages to get across alright.

“Never had you pegged for the quiet life type,” he jokes. Bart just looks sad.

“Me neither. But I’ve been doing the whole hero thing for four years now, and, well.” He comes to an abrupt stop, mouth opening and closing a few times. Jaime waits as patiently as he can. “Now that a whole bunch are gead and…Um, dead and gone…And then with that whole month of my _life_ still gone, I -” Jaime doesn’t want to think about that, either. “I don’t even know what I’m saying.”

“That’s okay.”

Neither of them speaks for a few moments. Bart kicks the ground dejectedly. His chair is still.

“Joan wants to move in with Iris and Barry.” Jaime’s surprised. Bart grins at him. “Yeah, that’s what I thought, too. But she’s _old_ , and…She said it was about time that I became independent. She wanted me to move in with you.” A laugh slips out of Bart’s mouth. “But I think I’d annoy you too much. I said that she could take Dox with her. I’ll get a cat.”

“You’re actually doing this, aren’t you?” he questions, feeling a cold dread run through him. Bart’s _planned_ this, and it’s finally dawning on Jaime that he’s probably going to have to say goodbye.

“Yeah.” Bart nods quickly, looking vaguely like a bobble-head. Jaime cracks a small smile. “Soon. Jay left me a lot of money – and I mean a _lot_ – so it’s not like I don’t have the capability. And I’m sure my family’ll help me get set up.”

“You’re talking like you’re going into retirement,” Jaime jokes. “What, is seventeen too old for being a hero? Can you feel your hips breaking?”

Bart sends him a grateful smile, spinning on his chair one last time before abruptly standing.

“I’d better go tell everyone else that I’m serious. You coming?”

The truth is: Jaime doesn’t _want_ to come. He doesn’t want this to be real, for Bart to be quitting. He doesn’t want those twenty-five heroes to be dead and he doesn’t want Jay Garrick to be floating in space.

He nods.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> both the 2018 and "month of my life still gone" things will be addressed in later chapters.  
> warning: this story will include comic aspects like thaddeus thawne and rose wilson, but only a very basic understanding of their characters should be needed.  
> while a large chunk of this fic has been written, an unfortunate amount of that is towards the middle/end, so past chap 2 idk when i can guarantee an update  
> thx for reading :)


	2. Half Jack

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fucking thousands of words of this fic have been written all of chapter six most of chapter seven just not much of chapter three :(  
> thx for the rlly nice comments last chap :)  
> This Song: [Half Jack](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cGgsVRk96Qo) by The Dresden Dolls

**_When I let him, when I feel the stitches getting sicker_**  
_**I try to wash him out but like they say, 'The blood is thicker'**_  
_**I see my mother in my face but only when I travel**_  
_**I run as fast as I can run but Jack comes tumbling after.**_

_2021_

A year and a day after Bart threw his cowl to the floor, there is an explosion to the side of his cottage.

Bart totally _doesn’t_ jump, thankyouverymuch, and instead heads outside in a calm, rational manner at a calm, rational place. Considering the way he’s grown up he isn’t even _fucking_ surprised to see a smoking crater where his tulips should be. That doesn’t stop his mouth dropping open in outrage.

“My tulips!” he laments, zipping over to stand above the remains of his precious, destroyed flowers. Bart looks down in dismay. “Oh my _God_ , they’ve been completely destroyed!”

Someone coughs out of nowhere, making Bart jerk back on instinct. Then he leans forward, also on instinct, peering into the crater with wide eyes.

There is a person in there.

“Um.” Bart shuffles slightly. Should he try to help? “Are you, like, okay? You fell pretty hard there.”

The figure pauses for a few moments before coughing again. Bart’s face screws up.

“Do you want me to call an ambulance?” he begins, ignoring the way the person – _whoever_ they are – holds up a hand. “I mean, we’re kind of in the middle of nowhere so it might take a while for them to get here, but…Well, that didn’t exactly seem like a smooth landing.” No reply. Bart folds his arms, foot tapping rapidly. “C’mon dude, you flattmend my – _flattened_ my tulips. The least you could do is offer an apology.”

“ _…Bart?_ ” they croak. Bart pauses, counts to ten, and analyses the figure again. The smoke is beginning to clear now, and it makes it much easier to see them

“Ohmygod. Jaime?”

“I, uh -” And it _is_ Jaime, stumbling over his words and managing to look terribly confused despite the armour covering his face. “ _Hermano,_ what are you doing here?”

“ _Me?_ ” Bart snorts. His foot-tapping speeds up. “I think the better question is, what are _you_ doing here? This is my home, so I have every right to be in this garden. But _you_? You just showed up out of nowhere and flattened my tulips! AndIwasreallyreallyproudofthose so why did you have to land _there_ ofallplaces?”

“I – what?” Jaime shifts, looking like he’s trying to get up and failing. “This is – your garden?”

“ _Obviously._ ”

Jaime finally manages the struggle which is rising, wincing awkwardly. Now that he’s standing Bart can see that the armour’s blackened and damaged in some places, but all in all seems to have survived a crash-landing fairly well.

Jaime squints. Bart’s gotta admit, it _is_ a sunny day. A sunny, warm day in which he was looking forward to watering his tulips.

So much for _that_ plan.

“Where are we?” Jaime asks, looking rightfully confused. Bart stares at him for a couple seconds.

“Smallville.”

“Smallville?”

“Yeah, Smallville. It’s small, it’s a ville.”

“I don’t think that’s a word,” Jaime comments, rubbing the back of his head. Bart grins on instinct, then remembers himself and tampers it down.

“It is in French!”

He spins and walks several steps, pausing after a moment.

“Well?” he asks, turning back to face Jaime. “Are you coming?”

\--

Bart’s cottage, thankfully, is as undestroyed as when he left it. It’s a mess, to put it bluntly, but it’s standing strong and not squashed by a falling beetle, so Bart counts that as a win.

“I’d say make yourself at home,” he comments loudly, pulling teabags out from the cupboard. “But you should probably be leaving soon.”

Jaime, bless his soul, looks earnestly confused, blinking.

“ _Por qué_?”

“Because! I have things to do!”

“Like, um…” Jaime looks around, still frowning in that cute way he likes to. His eyes settle on the jumper Bart was halfway through making. “Sewing? And gardening?” His expression turns doubtful. “Are you sure you’re feeling alright?”

“Oh, _ha ha_.” Bart takes care to make a big show of clapping, making the tea in about two seconds flat. And that’s him going _slow_. “And it’s knitting, not sewing. I’m learning how to be patient.”

Jaime stares like he’s never seen him before.

“I’m sorry, what?” His face screws up. “We’re not destroying him! He is real.”

Bart’s well aware that Jaime’s talking to the Scarab, but he takes a certain satisfaction in widening his eyes and asking: “Jaime, are you hearing voices? You should probably see someone about that.”

“Very funny, Bart.” Jaime’s gaze travels the room once more, taking in the decorations hanging from the ceiling to the fire crackling in the hearth. A small smile hovers around his lips. “This place is nice, though. How long have you lived here?”

Bart crosses his arms, foot tapping rapidly.

“A while. Got it a few weeks after I left.”

Jaime points at the nearest decoration.

“Did you make these?”

The sound of a click fills Bart’s ears as his jaw sets.

“Yeah, so?”

Jaime’s smile gets wider. He shakes his head ruefully. It’s weird.

“I remember you making one for Milagro, her first birthday you were there for. You were kind of desperate to make a good impression on her, _ese_.”

Bart arches an eyebrow.

“What is this, Nostalgia 101?” It is. Bart can remember slowing himself down to make Milagro that present – a mobile, with origami animals attached. Bart misses origami.

Note to self: get back into origami.

“Sorry.” Jaime seems to apologise on instinct, rubbing a hand across the back of his neck. “I just – it’s been a _year_ , Bart. The only time I’ve seen you was at Milagro’s birthday, and you ran away before I could speak to you.”

“I had to plant some pumpkins.”

“Or you wanted to avoid me.”

“Or,” Bart says slowly, “I wanted to plant some pumpkins.”

Jaime stares for a few seconds before shaking his head.

“No. You were avoiding me.”

Jaime’s right – not that Bart’s willing to admit it. He went back a few times, mainly for birthdays, because if there’s one great thing about superspeed it’s being able to travel a great distance and still sleep in the same bed every night. He saw Joan a lot, too. She’s doing alright; not _great_ , but alright.

Bart didn’t go back for Jaime’s birthday.

“You can’t prove anything!” he declares rather than face up to it. “Are you planning on drinking that tea?”

Jaime blinks. “I didn’t realise it was finished.”

“It’s been finished for three whole minutes! How can stand you leave it that long? It’s probably gone cold by now.”

Jaime lifts up the mug, fingers curling gently around it. It takes him five seconds to actually take a sip, five seconds of Bart tapping his foot and wishing his tulips weren’t _fucking destroyed_. Jaime blows on the tea. Raises it, finally. Drinks some. Puts it back down.

Bart lets out a groan.

“Will you hurry up?”

Jaime’s brow raises. “I thought you were trying to be more patient?”

Bart folds his arms, not wanting to admit that Jaime’s right. Another sip. His eyes settle on the mug, the way the tea laps at the edges when it is lifted and lowered.

He needs to stop being so overdramatic.

Bart manages to keep himself silent throughout the rest of the painful process that is Jaime finishing his tea. When he’s finally done, Bart can no longer contain himself.

“Okay, is there a reason you’re still here?”

Jaime pauses. “You invited me in.”

“Yeah, but if I were you I’d have left by now. What’s the deal, Blue, can’t you get enough of me?”

“I’ve not seen you for a year, Bart. I miss you.” And what is there to say to that, really, other than _‘Yeah, well, I miss you too’_ , a fact Bart’s not entirely comfortable admitting considering he’s the one that left in the first place. Oblivious to Bart’s inner monologue, Jaime carries on. “Also – there’s been some weird energy recently. I kind of thought – I dunno, maybe you’d like to take a look at it?”

Bart’s eyes roll. “That’s not exactly new, Blue.” He perks up. “Hey, that rhymed!”

Jaime smiles, leaning back against the counter.

“Bart,” he says. “I think you should come back.”

At which point Bart leaves the room in outrage.

He’s back in a few seconds, of course, after having stroked his cat and watched her leave the cottage. She’s called Blue, and in Bart’s honest opinion she’s even better than the _real_ Blue.

Then his eyes settle on Jaime, and he mentally shifts so they’re at the same rank.

“Just so you know,” Bart begins loudly, leaning back on his heels. “I’m not coming back because I missed you.”

“Okay,” Jaime responds, but he’s smiling.

“ _And_ I’m not re-joining the team. I’m just…let’s say _intrigued_ , by this so-called ‘energy’ you mentioned.”

“Of course.”

Bart points a finger. “You haven’t convinced me!”

“I know.” Jaime turns. “Shall we go?”

\--

**“Recognised: Blue Beetle B22. Recognised: Impulse B23.”**

As soon as he steps out, Bart shoots an annoyed look at the Zeta.

“You _still_ haven’t fixed that thing?” he demands, rounding on Jaime, who has the audacity to look amused. “Five years, and it _still_ says Impulse?”

Jaime shrugs.

“It’s not my fault, _hermano_. Besides, you never bothered to fix it, either, and you were here for four of those.”

There’s no way to admit to Jaime being right and still keep his dignity, so Bart just settles for huffing and turning around, blinking at the sudden flash of blonde in front of him.

“ _Bart!”_ Cassie practically smothers him in a hug. She smells of what Bart’s assuming is shampoo. Very fruity shampoo. “I heard it call your name but I didn’t know if it was really you!”

“Who else would it be?” Bart points out, carefully disentangling himself. “Other than Inertia, I mean. It _is_ me, by the way. Bart. Not him. Um – hi? You smell nice. What is that smell?”

Cassie laughs, allowing herself to be pushed away.

“You’re just as weird as ever,” she teases, grin looking like it might break off her face. She glances behind him. “And, Blue, it’s nice to see you’re alive and well. Thanks for telling us.” Bart turns just in time to see realisation dawn on Jaime’s face, but before he can get an apology out Cassie waves a nonchalant arm. “Don’t sweat it. We’ve all forgotten at some point or other.”

“Forgotten to let everyone know you aren’t rotting in a ditch somewhere?” Bart cocks an eyebrow at Jaime, folding his arms. “Nice one.”

“It was an accident!” Jaime defends, before turning to Cassie. “Sorry, Cass. You did manage to take care of the guy, though?”

“Are you kidding me? I didn’t even break a sweat.”

Somehow, Bart doesn’t find that hard to believe.

“Not that I’m not glad to see you,” Tim interrupts, appearing out of nowhere As Per Usual. Sometimes Bart wonders if he _literally_ manifested from the shadows, then thinks: no. Then Tim shows up from a corner or a wall and Bart thinks: yes. It’s all very confusing. “But can I ask what you’re doing here?”

“Jaime landed on my tulips and now he owes me a favour,” Bart declares loudly. After a subjective few seconds, he frowns. “Wait, but this is _me_ doing _him_ a favour. I’ve lost myself.”

“I think I owe you two favours now.” Oh, Jaime, Bless His Soul. Bart lets out a sunny beam.

“Thanks, Blue! Knew there was a reason I kept you around!”

Cassie laughs. Tim grins.

Oh, Bart’s _missed_ this.

“I thought Bart might be able to help with the lightning,” Jaime informs, bringing down the mood. Well, _Bart’s_ mood. His smile drops. “You know, the weird energy? It seems like something Bart might know about?”

“ _Do_ you know about it?” Tim raises a brow. Bart’s relieved to find himself grinning again.

“Nope! But I plan to! Do you have, like, a tracker for it?”

“You’re in luck,” Cassie declares, hand on hip. “Oracle said there’s one due in about ten minutes, in Central City. That’s where Miss Martian and Conner went, to go check it out. Other than them, it’s just us.”

Bart frowns. “What, in the whole team? You sure cut down since I left.”

“No, stupid!” But she’s smiling. “Everyone else is out in their own cities. Some of us have lives, you know.”

“You’ve blown my mind!” Bart exclaims, not _entirely_ sarcastically. “So, are we gonna investigate or what?”

\--

It’s just Jaime and Bart that go to investigate in the end. They’re both in civvies, because the last thing Bart wants is a weird telepathic hug from Miss Martian. Not that he doesn’t like them, or anything – he’s just trying to distance himself. He left for a reason, right? He really should remember that reason.

In all honesty, he’s pretty sure both Conner and M’Gann would be able to recognise him if they saw him. But they haven’t seen him in a year, so: maybe not.

Bart ends up shoving on sunglasses for the hell of it, even if it is _kind_ of cold. Jaime rolls his eyes, but doesn’t say anything other than: “Where did you even _get_ those?”

The energy certainly doesn’t seem impressive at first glance. A bit of a crackle, a few lightning bolts…not exactly the Infamous, Spectacular And Mysterious Energy Bart’s been hearing about. But, whatever. He can deal with disappointment.

He pouts.

“ _Aw_ , was that _it?_ ” Okay, so, maybe he _can’t_.

A smile plays around Jaime’s lips. “Just wait.”

Bart does wait.

And it pays off.

The _real_ energy display is quite honestly the most dramatic thing Bart’s ever seen, all loud thunderclaps and whole fucking _lightning bolts_ coming out of nowhere. A crowd, of course, forms, full of stupid people that really should be running away from Risk Of Electrocution.

To be fair, Bart would stay in their position.

It finishes a lot quicker than he’d like.

“Holy shit,” Bart breathes, grinning. He peers over the glasses, fixing his eyes on Jaime. “Okay, that was kind of kawesome. Awesome.”

“Definitely,” Jaime agrees, at which point Bart finally spots Conner and M’Gann in the crowd. They haven’t seen _him_ , thank _fuck_ , but they turn and walk away almost as soon as the energy’s over. Which, _okay_.

Bart leans back on his heels, wishing he had bubble-gum so he could pop it.

“So, what do you think?”

Jaime, bless his soul, just looks confused.

“About what?”

“About, y’know.” Bart waves an arm. “The whole weird energy thing. Any theories?”

“Well,” Jaime starts slowly, running a hand through his hair. “There is something I’ve been thinking about.” Bart waits for him. Jaime shifts awkwardly. “I mean, there’s always the possibility that – you know, with the way Wally disappeared -”

“Stop.” Jaime falls silent immediately. Bart breathes out slowly, shakily, closing his eyes. He’s got to get himself under control. “It’s not Wally.”

“Look, I – I know it’s hard, thinking about him -”

“Jaime, I’m being serious!” Bart snaps, opening his eyes and sighing. “Sorry, I just – every weird energy spike or readings that can’t be explained, everyone always thinks it’s Wally. And it never is. I can’t – get my hopes up for the hundredth time, okay? It’s not him.”

Jaime is silent for a second, then: “Okay. It’s not Wally.”

Bart breathes out.

“Good.” Silence reigns for a second. Bart doesn’t regret leaving the team, but pretty much the only thing that can make it hard to deal with is the fucking _awkwardness_. He shuffles. “You got any, uh, other theories?”

Jaime shrugs helplessly. “Aliens?”

Bart laughs, and it’s nice. Releases the tension.

“Sounds good to me, her-man-o. Hey, are you up for milkshakes? ‘Cos I’m pretty sure I saw a pretty crash milkshake place on the way over here.”

He did. It _is_ crash, it turns out. Nice and warm and the milkshakes are _good_ , if the large amount of customers is anything to go by.

They end up seated by the window – Bart swinging his legs like crazy, Jaime keeping his almost completely still. And Bart’s missed this, too, little outings with Jaime and his friends and milkshakes. It’s not been this normal in a year and a day. Or, if he’s entirely honest, since even before that. Since the Watchtower and Jay and the whole Lots-of-Sleep thing.

 “Okay, so, when did the energy start?” he begins, fingers drumming. “It can’t have been _too_ long, right?”

“A couple of months ago.”

“ _Months?_ ” Bart feels his eyebrows jump up. “And you’ve _still_ not figured out what’s going on?”

Jaime shoots him a quelling look. “You haven’t either.”

“Yeah, but I’ve had like – a day. _Less_ than a day. Less than _half_ a day. I mean, not really _subjectively_ , but that’s not the point here. The point is: you can track it. You know when it’s happening. But you have absolutely no idea what’s going on or what the hell it is.” Bart’s head tilts. “Jaime, that’s _adorable_.”

“Just get to the point.”

“That _was_ the point. I think. Okay, I don’t actually remember,” Bart admits awkwardly, wondering when the hell their milkshakes are planning on arriving. “But seriously, we need to get a move on at figuring this shit out.”

“’ _We_ ’?” Jaime’s a lot more perceptive than he looks, pouncing on that almost immediately. Bart mentally kicks himself.

“ _You_ , I meant. You and the Justice League. Or the team. You know, someone that’s a superhero that isn’t me because I have a life to get back to.”

Their orders finally arrive. Bart ordered two milkshakes, because he’s on a diet, shoving both straws in his mouth at once. At first the vanilla and strawberry conflict, but it only takes a few seconds for him to adapt to the taste and suddenly he has a new favourite flavour.

Jaime sips his boring, bland drink in a boring, bland fashion at a boring, bland pace. Honestly, sometimes Bart doesn’t know why he bothers hanging out with people like this.

“A _life?_ Bart, you were devastated that your tulips got damaged.”

And that right there would be the reason.

“Hey, let’s not forget who ‘damaged’ them – which, by the way, is the biggest understatement _ever_. And as a matter of fact, yes, I _do_ have a life to get back to, thankyouverymuch. I have a cat!”

Jaime blinks.

“I thought you were more of a dog person?”

“I can be both!” Bart defends, frowning when he realises he’s finished both milkshakes. Jaime catches his expression and passes his own third-finished drink, prompting a grateful smile. “My cat’s name is Blue, by the way. She’s not actually blue and when I tried to dye her – actually, let’s not talk about that. But she’s great! She brings me rats!”

“Please don’t tell me they’re dead.” Bart smiles sheepishly. Jaime lets out a slow sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You know, most people would be freaked out by that.”

“Welp. I think we all know I’m not exactly ‘most people’.”

“You don’t say,” Jaime mutters, but he’s smiling. Bart finishes the milkshake. “Artemis misses you.”

That was…abrupt. Bart tries not to blink too rapidly. Fails.

“She does?” His words are careful. It’s a weird feeling. Bart’s used to letting words tumble out uncontrollably, digging himself in holes as they fall away from him like dominos. (Stop.) (He was going to stop being so dramatic, remember?) “That’s…huh. I didn’t think she would?”

Jaime stares. “She hasn’t seen you in a _year_.”

“Hey, that’s not true! We were both there at the twins’ birthday!”

“Did you speak to her?”

Bart opens his mouth, then figures it’s better not to say anything and snaps it back shut. Which, really, is an answer in itself.

Jaime shakes his head.

“You’ve really worried everyone, you know that?”

A frown creases Bart’s brow. “It’s not like you thought I was dead.”

“Well, no,” Jaime concedes. “But we had no way of knowing how you were doing. Jay _died_ , Bart, and – look, I’m sorry, I don’t want to upset you, but the fact is that he _did_. He died and you missed it and you lost a _month_ and…I just didn’t think there’d be any way for you to be fine after that. I know I wouldn’t be.”

A draining sound emerges from where Bart’s reached the bottom of the milkshake. Both of them stare at the glass for a few seconds before he slowly pulls away, sardonic grin tugging at his lips.

“We’re very different people, Jaime.”

“You weren’t fine, though,” Jaime points out. He needs to stop being right. It’s starting to get annoying. “That’s why you left. You said so yourself.”

“Well, _yeah_. But I didn’t think I needed to keep everyone updated about how A-Okay my life was out in a Smallville countryside cottage. Weren’t you all meant to be busy, you know, saving the world and shit?”

Jaime doesn’t reply. His hand stops moving.

“Maybe you’re right. Or maybe you’re not.” He looks up. “I still think you should see Artemis.”

“I’ll call her later,” Bart brushes off. Jaime frowns.

“You can’t keep delaying things like this.”

Bart feels his leg begin to shake up and down. Great, now he’s getting all fidgety again. He _knew_ he should’ve brought his knitting.

“Why not? I’ve done it for a year now.” He pauses, tilting his head in consideration. “Sorry, that probably came off kind of – _what’stheword_ – cocky? No, that isn’t right.” He frowns. “What _is_ the word?”

“Self-assured?”

“Not it. Wait, does that count as one word or two?”

Jaime hesitates.

“I…don’t know?” A frown creeps across his face. “But seriously, Bart – talk to Artemis.”

“But I don’t _wanna!_ ”

“Stop being a baby.” Bart pouts, folding his arms. Jaime, if anything, looks endeared. “If you don’t want to just show up at her flat the way you used to, I’m sure she won’t mind you calling her.”

Bart’s fingers start to drum on the table.

“Can’t. I left my phone at the cottage.”

“You’re a speedster.”

“I’m also thirsty. I’m gonna order more drinks.”

Jaime falls silent. He doesn’t speak again for twenty minutes.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the reason Jaime doesn’t speak all that much Spanish in this is bc after the fifth time word set spanish as my default language (and it was very difficult to change back) I decided not to use it as much  
> again: the Lots-of-Sleep thing will be addressed  
> thx again :)


	3. Eggshell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> seeing as we're actually getting a season three i should probably finish my season three fic before it comes out  
> Fun Fact: my original pieces of writing/ideas for this chapter were completely thrown out of the window and i wrote all this in the past two days. it's mostly just bart meeting damian wayne, who's batman's vaguely-bratty son who becomes robin in the comics for anyone who doesn't know.  
> jaime's in this chapter for like...ten seconds...rip  
> This Song: [Eggshell](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=htQN52QhtY4) by Alev Lenz.

_**Eggshell won't you break apart**_  
_**In the right spots you are strong**_  
_**Your father, mother build us hard**_  
_**As they pushed us all along.**_  
  
_**The reason why you're fragile now**_  
_**Is the fear of breaking up**_  
_**The fear of losing what is left**_  
_**Fear the child that won't grow up**_.

Jaime’s phone beeps.

“Mission?” Bart asks, watching as Jaime checks the screen and pulls a face.

“ _Sí_. Debriefing’s in an hour.” He sighs, running a hand over his face. “It’s not exactly what I had in mind for this evening, but apparently it’s kind of urgent. You’re gonna be okay on your own?”

Bart stares. “I’m not twelve.”

Jaime snorts, rubbing at his eyes with a tired hand.

“I’m guessing you don’t want to come, right?” He waits for Bart to shake his head before continuing. “I guess I’d better head out, then. Are you staying at the cottage?”

“Yup!”

“Alright. I’ll…see you later?”

Bart leans back, grinning.

“I’m not gonna disappear forever when you look away, Jaime. I’ll be at my cottage. Or maybe at the base, I dunno, I could do an Energy Analysis. If that’s even a thing.”

Jaime doesn’t look happy as he leaves, but he does pay for the both of them, so at least there’s that.

\--

That night, Bart lies in his bed and doesn’t sleep.

Blue comes in at around two in the morning, mewling in a way Bart’s come to recognise as meaning ‘I Want Cuddles’. It doesn’t take long for her to jump up to the bed and settle down beside him, making small cat-sounds as he runs an absent hand down her back.

“Who does he think he is?” Bart says after a moment, hoping Tim or someone hasn’t bugged his house and can hear him talking to himself. “Coming here, destroying my tulips, cunningly convincing me to do favours and then getting all weird with me for not talking to him in a year? It’s ridiculous.”

Blue meows.

“Exactly!” Bart replies, snapping his fingers. “It’s – it’s rude, is what it is. At least you’re on my side, Blue. Even if Blue isn’t.”

In the darkness, he sees Blue turn her gaze on him, beady eyes gazing. He’s pretty sure that she only has the average intelligence of a cat, but even she seems to be able to tell that he’s being pretty stupid.

Bart groans, looking up at the ceiling.

“This is dumb.”

Seeing as he’s _clearly_ not getting to sleep, Bart figures he might as well pay the base a visit. Maybe he can figure out what the hell that weird energy’s supposed to be. He knows what it’s certainly _not_ meant to be: normal.

He doesn’t want to leave Blue, though, ‘cos he’s kind of in the mood for snuggling, too. So when he’s gotten dressed and left the house and steps into the Zeta Tube down a dark alley, he cradles her carefully in one arm and uses the payphone in the tube with the other.

Tim picks up after just a couple rings.

_“Yeah?”_

“Tim! It’s me!”

_“…Bart?”_

“No. It’s Black Beetle.” He figures he should carry on before Tim gets any funny ideas. “I’mkiddingit’sme. I’m in a Zeta Tube that’s also a payphone and I want to get into the base but I wanna bring my cat with me but she isn’t cleared. Canyouhelp?”

 _“How did you get this number?”_ Tim asks, clearly lagging a bit behind in the conversation. Bart rolls his eyes.

“I remember lots of things, Timmy, including phone numbers. Yes, even _your_ phone number. Can you help or not?”

A distinctly pained-sounding noise makes its way down the line.

_“Bart, it’s two in the morning.”_

“Two _fifteen_. I think. It’s at _least_ later than two exactly.”

 _“Smartassiness doesn’t suit you.”_ Bart thinks Tim might’ve made that word up, but he doesn’t say anything as shuffling sounds and a tired sigh hit his ears. _“You owe me one for this.”_

“Sure. I’ll plant you some pumpkins.”

 _“I don’t want pumpkins.”_ Amusement coats his voice as he starts typing, judging by the noises Bart can hear. _“I’ll ask you for something at some point, and you’ll have to help.”_

“It’s a deal!” Bart agrees, hoping that it won’t come back to bite him later. “As long as it’s not murder! And can you hurry up, I’m _freezing_ out here!”

 _“Your fault for coming out at this time.”_ Tim lets out a weird hum of triumph, hitting a key decisively. _“There! You know how you usually press 111 to access the tube? Press 222. It’ll recognise you and a plus one of any species. That is, if you actually **are** in the booth I tracked you to. You’re welcome.” _

“How did you do that so fast?” Bart inquires, leaning against the wall. “Shouldn’t that be a really complicated thing to set up?”

 _“It’s always there as a backup in all the tubes that are in phone booths. Only Batman can make it accessible. Well, Batman and a good hacker.”_ Bart opens his mouth to say something like ‘how’d _you_ manage it, then’, but Tim interrupts. _“Now can you hurry up and go through? If I’m up for much longer there’s no **way** I’m getting back to sleep.”_

“Thanks, Tim!” Bart chirps, slamming the phone down. Then he raises his hand to the numbers, and inputs 222.

\--

He arrives in a base that’s quiet and still, noting how the **“Recognised: Impulse B23 and Authorised Plus One”** is a lot quieter. Is it a night thing? He hopes the intruder alarm is louder than _that_ , or else they’ll have a problem.

Bart finds the comfiest room on instinct, complete with bean bags and tablets hooked up to the database and – snacks! Popcorn! Uneaten, in-an-untouched-bag popcorn! Crashcrashcrashcrash!

“Do you want some popcorn, Blue?” he asks, resting her in his lap once he’s comfortably settled on a bean bag, pulling one of the tablets and logging in as **Kid Flash_B23**. Password: **donxmeloni**.

He’s not exactly sure why he bothered setting it as something no one will know, seeing as there’s a 99% chance Batman keeps track of what everyone types. Screw that, 99.5%.

It’s just sentiment, really. He wanted to remember them in some way, even if that way was the password for a tablet Bruce Wayne ‘donated’.

“Y’know,” he says out loud, clicking on to the Weirdness Reports section. Okay, so maybe it’s real name is Scientific and Supernatural Phenomenon, but everyone knows what that _really_ means. “It’s a good job Batman’s rich. Imagine running a superhero team on a low budget. I mean, he doesn’t _run_ the team butlet’sbereal he’s at least majorly involved in what happens -” Bart cuts himself off.

Maybe a normal person would say something like: “God, I’m talking to a _cat_.” But Bart is Bart and so instead says: “Can cats eat popcorn?” He should probably look that up.

His fingers click the home button, finding their way to the online search bar and typing **can cats eat popcorn**. As usual, the technology isn’t fast enough to keep up with speedster typing, so Bart passes the time waiting for it to load by popping open the bag of popcorn.

Learning to read and write when you’re thirteen isn’t all that easy, even for a speedster. At first he was stubbornly determined to stay illiterate forever, as a testament to the time he came from, but after a few months of ‘adaption time’ the Garricks started discussing enrolling him in school, and Tim mentioned how much information about the past was online, and Bart grudgingly enlisted the help Mal to learn.

Mal was a pretty patient teacher, and in hindsight he seemed glad to have a hobby. Granted, it was more of a project than a hobby, and Bart’s pretty sure he annoyed the shit out of Mal. But when he spent weeks struggling all the way through the first Harry Potter book, Mal sat and listened and encouraged. Bart remembers finishing and looking up with a big smile, and Mal had smiled back.

The page loads, after what seems like _forever_. (Also known as ten seconds.)

“It says you can,” Bart starts after clicking through the first three articles, smiling down at Blue. “But only a few! Like, one or two. So I…hope you don’t like it much?”

Blue barely even responds, but she eats the solitary piece Bart gives her. He scores it as a win.

A win against _what_ , he’s not sure.

With that sorted out, it’s back onto the Weirdness Reports page. It doesn’t take long to realise that the energy disturbances are listed as ‘Disruptions and Manifestations in Energy’ (also known as DAMIE, which makes Bart snort).

“I bet Tim named it,” he tells Blue, scrolling through the information and noting the total number of disturbances: 22. “DAMIE. It’s like Damian. Even if they spell it different. Damian’s around at this point, right?”

Blue doesn’t answer either yes or no, which really isn’t that big of a surprise. Instead she rests her head on her arms.

“You,” Bart says solemnly. “Are adorable.”

From there, he alternates between eating popcorn and reading through the information displayed. He finishes the bag at about the same time he reaches the comments section of the page, blinking at the realisation that there’s a whole _message board about this_.

It’s long and mostly unrelated and Bart didn’t know _so many_ people had access to this, but he thinks it’s worth seeing what the geniuses have to say. Well. The _other_ ones.

**KidFlash_B23: does the energy have a point of origin???**

It doesn’t take long for someone to respond.

**BeastBoy_B19: omg kf why r u up at this time**

**KidFlash_B23: you are too**

**BeastBoy_B19: yh cos missions have messed up my sleep cycle u dont go on missions**

**BeastBoy_B19: wait i havent seen u 4 months??? where u bin**

**KidFlash_B23: kansas**

**BeastBoy_B19: y kansas**

**KidFlash_B23: it’s crash!!!!!!!!**

**BeastBoy_B19: thats ur opinion i guess**

**BeastBoy_B19: which did not require that many exclamation points**

**BeastBoy_B19: wait does this mean ur back???**

Bart pauses before responding, which he figures he can do because: speedster.

Learning to write was harder than learning to read. Mal was still patient, even when Bart still had to get him to type things into Google for him.

Having a good memory made things easier, but Bart had an easier time stopping the Reach apocalypse than learning grammar and the tenses.

But another good thing about Mal: he never told anyone. Of course, Bart had to awkwardly tell his family (they couldn’t go enrolling him in _school_ when he couldn’t _write_ ) and he’s pretty sure the Bats knew _somehow_ , but he didn’t want it to be public knowledge. He knew he _shouldn’t_ be embarrassed – it wasn’t his fault! – but he was.

He still sort of is.

**KidFlash_B23: nah I just want to know what this energy is**

**KidFlash_B23: can you actually answer my question??**

**BeastBoy_B19: lol no ur better off asking a genius**

**KidFlash_B23: I AM a genius!!**

**KidFlash_B23: why doesn’t this have italics I’m not shouting BB I’m emphasising**

**BeastBoy_B19: 2021 ladies and gents**

**BeastBoy_B19: but yh i meant a different genius**

**KidFlash_B23: I don’t think any of them are awake**

**BeastBoy_B19: guess thats why theyre geniuses**

**KidFlash_B23: lol**

**BeastBoy_B19: lolol**

**KidFlash_B23: lololol**

**BeastBoy_B19: lolololol**

**RedRobin_B20: BOTH OF YOU GO TO BED**

**KidFlash_B23: nope!!!!!**

**BeastBoy_B19: nahhh**

**RedRobin_B20: SERIOUSLY MY NOTIFICATIONS ARE GOING BESERK**

**BeastBoy_B19: turn them off then**

**KidFlash_B23: lol Simple Solutions Rob**

**KidFlash_B23: whose idea was a message board anyway**

**KidFlash_B23: seriously I come back after a year and you’ve got message boards???**

**KidFlash_B23: and they say I’M the weird one**

**BeastBoy_B19: u r**

**KidFlash_B23: lol**

**RedRobin_B20: I’m going to bed.**

**KidFlash_B23: night!!!!!!**

**BeastBoy_B19: dont let the bedbugs bite**

“How did you get in here?”

Bart blinks at the sudden sword to his face, following it up to see none other than Damian Wayne staring down with a displeased expression.

His fingers quickly type.

**KidFlash_B23: hold on Batman Jr’s here**

“Through the front door? Why, how’d you get in, climb through a window?”

Damian lets out a heavy breath, the sword still not wavering. Bart’s pretty sure if worst came to worst he could get away in about 0.2 seconds unharmed, but maybe he should keep that quiet for now.

“You’re an intruder.”

“The computer let me in!” Bart protests. He would raise his arms but he’s busy keeping them protectively over Blue, Just In Case. She doesn’t really seem to care that her life’s in danger, but she’s always been a sort of lazy cat. “I’m not intruding! I’m just – visiting.”

“ _Tt._ Just as intruder would say.”

“So would a visitor!”

“A visitor would come during the day,” Damian refutes, which: good point.

“Well, I’m – sort of weird.”

Damian hums, eyes travelling down to spot Blue. “I notice you have a cat, and you somehow got inside without triggering the alarms. Could you be Klarion the Witch Boy?” He looks triumphant, except for the fact that he’s completely wrong.

Normally, Bart’d play along with it, but Blue just shifted in his lap and no _way_ is he risking disturbing her by being attacked.

“Try Kid Flash.”

Damian stares for a couple seconds before apparently matching the picture of Kid Flash: The Sequel with the weird guy and his cat sitting in front of him.

He lowers his sword.

“Oh.”

“Don’t worry, I only recognised _you_ ‘cos I knew you in the future. I don’t blame you for being suspicious. Okay, well, maybe I blame you for pointing a sword in my face ‘cos thatpartseemedkindofunecessary, but I guess we all like to do this whole vigilante thing differently.”

“You haven’t been part of the team in a year.”

Bart’s kind of impressed that he knew that, considering Damian wasn’t even _around_ when Bart left.

“A year and two days, actually. Or a year and a day and a half? It’s kind of late, if you hadn’t noticed.”

“Actually, it’s early. I thought you were supposed to be smart.”

Bart sticks his tongue out.

“Smart and _impulsive_. Not always the best combo, if you ask Nightwing, but…I don’t…know where I was going with this.”

Damian stares. How much does he know about Bart? Surely he knows he’s from the –

“You’re from the future. Apparently.”

“Yeah!” Bart grins. Damian doesn’t look very impressed. “All the way from 2056! Man, if I’d stayed it’d be, what 2061 by now? Does that mean it’s _my_ 2061? Ugh, time travel is weird.”

“ _Tt_.”

“Can I – get back to my conversation now?” Bart asks, smiling in what he hopes is an appealing manner. Damian stares.

It turns out, Damian is nosy. Like, _really_ nosy. He decides to read everything Bart’s written so far – “To prove you’re not an intruder!” “Haven’t we already established that I’m not?” “ _Tt.”_ – on the threat of impalement. In all honesty Bart’s pretty sure he’s too fast for Damian to do any real damage, but the thing is that Damian’s kind of _adorable_ , so he doesn’t mind giving in.

After several moments, Damian snorts, pointing at the screen.

“You made Drake angry. Well done.”

“I – thank you?”

“It was a compliment.”

Bart peers over to see the bottom three messages at around the same time Damian reads them, grinning.

**KidFlash_B23: hold on Batman Jr’s here**

**BeastBoy_B19: im guessing u mean the new robin???**

**BeastBoy_B19: man that kids evil**

“I’m not evil,” Damian informs the screen, glaring like it’s personally responsible. “Father said so.”

“Yeah, I know. Can you actually let me _reply_ now?”

Damian looks grudging, but he hands the tablet back over to Bart.

“ _Thank_ you.”

**KidFlash_B23: yeah that one**

**KidFlash_B23: he pointed a sword at me**

**KidFlash_B23: Evil Incarnate**

**BeastBoy_B19: woah shit is this future boy knowledge???**

**BeastBoy_B19: is he gonna cause the end of the world???**

**KidFlash_B23: nahhh that was Jaime remember?**

**KidFlash_B23: the kid’s evil but he’s good don’t worry**

**BeastBoy_B19: noted**

**KidFlash_B23: lol do you still say that**

**BeastBoy_B19: yh y u got a problem w/ that**

**KidFlash_B23: nope!!!!!**

Peering over his shoulder, Damian somehow misses the entire conversation and points at Gar’s username.

“He’s in the Justice League now.”

“Woahshitreally?”

**KidFlash_B23: yo what’s this I hear about you being in the Justice League?????????**

**BeastBoy_B19: o yh i joined like 2 months ago**

**BeastBoy_B19: last i saw u was 3 months ago?? i think?? forgot u dont know**

**KidFlash_B23: that’s so crash tell me everything!!!!!!**

**BeastBoy_B19: ugh ill tell u in person**

**BeastBoy_B19: cba doing it now im so tired**

**KidFlash_B23: lol weak**

**BeastBoy_B19: shut up bart**

**BeastBoy_B19: night**

**KidFlash_B23: niiiiiight meatbag**

Damian seems to read the last few messages, eyes narrowing.

“Should you be using real names on a public forum?”

“It’s only public to anyone in the team or Justice League. ‘Sides, your _dad_ helped set this up, I’m guessing. So it’s probably the most secure message board in the _world_. In the _world_ , Damian. Maybe even the universe.”

“Wha – how do you know my name?!” Damian rears back as if struck, sword raising slightly. Bart’s hands move back to protecting Blue.

“Future boy, remember?”

“ _Tt._ ” Damian unhappily lowers the sword back down, keeping a hand on it like a warning. Bart frowns.

“Do you just make that noise when you can’t think of anything to say?”

_“Tt.”_

“Thought so.”

Damian pauses, looking him over.

“You know,” he says with narrowing eyes, “I think we may be able to help each other, Kid Flash.”

“Ooh, you mean you could get some more popcorn? ‘Costhatwouldbereallyhelpful -”

“I didn’t mean popcorn,” Damian cuts in, tone turning scathing. Considering he can’t be older than twelve, it just comes off as cute. He kind of reminds Bart of Blue, actually. Blue the Cat. “I meant information.”

Bart’s shoulders dip. “Oh. Well, that’s boring.”

“Don’t you want to know what information I have?”

Bart taps his nail against the tablet screen. “Is it about the energy?”

“No.”

“Not really, then.”

“You will,” Damian assures, in the tone of voice Bart’s heard Lex Luthor take when he’s trying to make a business deal. Bart can’t stop the patronising smile from taking over his face.

“Alright!” he replies, leaning further back into the beanbag. “Hit me!”

Damian stares for long enough that Bart starts to worry he took the ‘hit me’ in a different way than he was intending, but then he nods.

“A few months ago,” Damian starts, voice low like he’s recounting some Great Secret, “a girl broke in to the Batcave. She tried to access the main computer’s records. She failed.”

“Ha!”

“Shut up!” Damian snaps, a crease forming between his eyebrows. He takes a deep breath, managing to look indescribably like his father. “If you’re done being an imbecile: she wanted to access _your_ records in particular, for reasons she wouldn’t disclose.”

Bart bites his lips to stop from smiling too widely. The words this kid is using are _way_ too big.

“So, uh.” He shifts, clearing his throat and still trying _very hard_ not to laugh. “Who was she?”

A smirk worms it’s way onto Damian’s face.

“Wouldn’t _you_ like to know.”

“I – would?”

Damian falls silent for a few moments, eyes narrowed in thought. Bart waits as patiently as he can, fingers drumming against the floor.

“Here’s what I propose, Kid Flash. We’ll do an exchange later today. I tell you who she was, and you tell me about the future. What I’m doing there.”

Bart pauses.

“You know my future doesn’t exist anymore, right?”

“Irrelevant. You have information about me. I want to know what it is.”

“O- _kay_. And where are we meeting?”

Damian waves a casual hand.

“I’ll contact you with the details later. I’m sure Drake has your number.”

“Nope! I have his ‘cos my memory’s crash but I’ve never bothered calling him from this phone.” Bart’s head tilts. “I think the tablets have, like, a private messaging system? I mean, not _private_ because I’m pretty sure Batman and Oracle can read them all, but they should be private _enough_.”

Damian agrees.

\--

After Damian’s left back to…wherever he came from, Bart reviews the information on the energy one more time, just in case there’s something he missed.

There’s not.

In his lap, Blue mewls, apparently waking up from her little nap. Bart smiles down at her, rising and taking her into his arms in one quick movement. She looks confused for about two seconds before apparently deciding she’s never going to figure out what just happened and letting it go.

A yawn escapes from Bart’s lips, kind of taking him by surprise.

“I’m tired,” he tells Blue. Thank you, Captain Obvious! “ _Ugh_ , I don’t wanna run back to Smallville.”

Does he still have a room here? He certainly _used_ to, even if he shared it with Virgil. Does Virgil sleep at the base? Does _anyone_ , other than Damian?

Have they given his bed away to someone else?

Bart figures it’s worth a try, zipping to the room and awkwardly knocking on the door.

No reply.

He pushes it open, noting the darkness and two flat beds.

So it’s empty, then. Good. He can go inside.

“If this isn’t my bed anymore,” he announces loudly, walking across to place Blue down on the bed furthest from the door. _His_ bed. “Then I’m sorry, but I was here first.”

Bart flops down, and falls asleep in seconds.

\--

Leaving with a cat is a whole lot easier than entering.

No one shows up to claim Bart’s old bed, but in the morning (well: later in the morning) he straightens the sheets and makes sure the bed looks just as untouched as he found it.

He somehow manages to avoid running into a single person on the way to the door, leading onto an overgrown alleyway that pretty much no one ever goes down.

“So!” Bart says to Blue, a stolen tablet clutched in his hand. “What now?”

\--

He drops Blue back off at the cottage, because there’s no way the poor thing’s getting back there alone. Bart gets dressed while he’s at it, slipping on the first clean clothes he can find and checking the tablet for notifications.

**Robin_B37: Are you the one that stole the tablet from the Breaks Room?**

**KidFlash_B23: lol ya**

**Robin_B37: I’ll inform the team.**

**KidFlash_B23: it was sorta obvious rlly I mean you said you’d use this to contact me?? So?? I needed it??**

**Robin_B37: Tt. Fine.**

**Robin_B37: Meet me in two hours at the Flash Museum.**

**KidFlash_B23: !!!!!!! I love the Flash Museum!!!!!!!**

**Robin_B37: I know.**

**Robin_B37: Don’t be late.**

**Robin_B37: I’ve heard speedsters often are.**

**KidFlash_B23: psshhh I’ll be there in a flash!!!!**

**KidFlash_B23: do you get it??????**

**Robin_B37: Goodbye.**

Two hours. What’s he supposed to do for two hours? He doesn’t really feel like gardening, and Blue’s fucked off somewhere, and Jaime got all _moding_ on him yesterday and Bart’s just not about that life!

He ends up filling the void by knitting and contemplating what the energy could be. Maybe there’s about to be a huge disaster and it’s a warning from aliens! Maybe it’s Klarion! Maybe Weather Wizard’s found a New Thing he can do!

“I bet Batman figures it out,” he says out loud. No one replies.

On Bart’s way out, one hour and fifty three minutes later, he grabs the pink star-shaped sunglasses Gar gave him for Christmas last year. They’re fun! And he’s pretty sure _Damian’s_ not gonna bother trying to have a good time, so it’s up to Bart to have fun for the both of them!

\--

“Your glasses look stupid.”

Bart looks up from his place on the museum bench, taking in Damian’s cute frown and rigid shoulders. He has boring, normal sunglasses perched on his nose. What a disappointment.

“Thanks! Yours too.”

“ _Tt._ Mine are simple, a disguise. _Yours_ are drawing unnecessary attention.”

Bart squints. He personally _loves_ his sunglasses, thankyouverymuch, but it looks like you can’t please everyone.

“Dude, how old are you?” he asks, leaning back on the bench. Damian actually looks _offended_ , which is hilarious.

“That is _none_ of your business!”

“So, like, under twelve?”

 _“Tt.”_ Yeeeah, he’s under twelve.

“So,” Bart starts loudly, watching proudly as a group of tourists start taking pictures of his Impulse statue across the room. “What’s this info I’m supposed to be interested by?”

Damian takes a seat beside him on the bench, legs crossing. Bart can’t _see_ any weapons, but the bag he’s carrying looks suspiciously sword-shaped.

“Do you know of Jesse Quick?”

“What – oh, Jesse? Hell yeah! But what’s that got to do with – oh shit, shewasthegirl!”

“Correct.”

Bart frowns. He only met Jesse the once, at some weird Speedster Meet-Up. She seemed nice! He vaguely remembers spotting her at Jay’s funeral, but at the time he’d been a little occupied with grieving and never went over to speak to her.

“Why was she looking for my details?”

Damian suddenly blows and pops a pink bubble, making Bart jump. He did _not_ know Damian had bubble-gum! That _scared_ him!

“She wanted a way to contact you. She said she had something to discuss, but refused to share what that matter was with us.”

Bart’s frown increases.

“Couldn’t she just use, like, the message boards?”

“You weren’t aware of them until this morning,” Damian points out with a withering look. Jeez, why’s a kid at _least_ six years younger than him being the more sensible one? “And Quick isn’t a part of either the team or the Justice League. She doesn’t have access.”

“Oh. Did you tell her where I live? I know Batman’s knows.”

“We didn’t tell her anything. And then she left.”

 Bart’s mouth quirks unhappily.

“Thanks for letting me know, you guys, it’s not like that could’ve been important or anything.”

“We believed she’d find you on her own!” Damian defends, cheeks flushing. “I only realised this morning when you came back without knowing anything about the energy!”

“What’s the energy got to do with it?”

Damian pauses, apparently realising his slip-up.

“She – might have mentioned something about weird energy,” he admits, suddenly looking as young as he probably is. “At the time, I didn’t view it as important. Now I see that I should’ve done.”

Damien blows another bubble, managing to make it last for five seconds before it pops.

“I… _see_ ,” Bart says, chewing on his thumb nail absently. The tourists by his statue have long since moved on. Now they’re entering the First Kid Flash Room. “So – you want to know what you were like in the future?”

“I want to know two things,” Damian states, tone pretty damn haughty for an Actual Child. “First of all, yes, what I was doing in the future.”

Bart scans over his form, lips twitching up as he compares the Damian in front of him to the Damian he knew.

“You were in my camp when I was a kid,” he says, mentally conjuring up the memory. “And don’t go asking about that, ‘cos I won’t tell you. But what I _will_ tell you is that I thought you were pretty cool.” _Until you died_ , Bart doesn’t add. Something tells him that’d kill the vibe.

“That’s all?” Damian looks sort of disappointed, though he goes right back to the default scowl.

“Well – yeah. I think you liked talking to me ‘cause you could go on about superheroes for ages and I’d actually listen. I – grife, herewego – I admired you. Kind of a lot.”

Damian seems to like that, judging by the smug expression.

“Yes, I can see why you would have a certain admiration -”

“I admired you in the _future_ ,” Bart interrupts before the kid can start getting any ideas. Moving so fast Damian doesn’t have time to react, he leans over and ruffles his hair. “Grow up first. Then we’ll see.”

“I -” Damian’s mouth drops open. Bart can see the gum lying in there. Gross. “I _am_ grown up!”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

“ _You_ – hmm. You never asked me what the other thing I wanted to know was.”

Bart spreads his hands.

“Lay it on me.”

“Why did you leave the team?”

Bart runs through everything in his head and decides the best option is feigning obliviousness.

“What?”

“You know _what_ ,” Damien says, scowling. He folds his arms. Pops his gum. “You left the team a year ago. I want to know why.”

“I don’t see why there has to be a _reason_ ,” Bart begins, strongly contemplating taking the star sunglasses off before the conversation gets too serious. “I was called _Impulse_. Maybe I left on impulse.”

“No, because then you would’ve come back,” Damian argues, and _dammit he’s right_. “You don’t have to tell me _everything_. I just want to know why.”

Bart takes off the sunglasses, sliding them onto the collar of his shirt.

“Fine, kid. You wanna hear the juicy details, you can hear the juicy details.” He bites his cheek. Contemplates running away. Decides not to. “You know Klarion? I mean, I’massumingyoudo, you thought I was him before.”

“Yeah,” Damian confirms, face turning wary. “Did he force to leave?”

“What? Oh! Nononono, nothing like that. He did curse me, though. Into…sleeping.”

“Sleeping?” Damian doesn’t sound very impressed. Bart rolls his eyes.

“Yes, _sleeping_ , that’s what I said, isn’t it? He cursed me, though we didn’t realise it for a while. And I started sleeping more, for longer and longer periods. But it wasn’t, like comas? ‘Cos for one thing they were too short at first and people could wake me up. But I was really tired and I kept sleeping for longer and whenever I went on missions I got even _more_ tired so I stopped going on missions.

“I remember that everyone was like, super worried, but I just wouldn’t hear it. I thought I was fine, god knows _why_. I’m thinking that maybe that was part of the curse? I don’t know. I don’t really know howmagicworks. I’m more of a science-y guy.

“So, yeah. It got worse until I went to sleep for a while. And I mean a _while_. Like, about a month. And this one no one could wake me up from. I remember that before I went to sleep they were all pretty much begging me to stay awake and I _tried_ but I just. I just couldn’t.

“And then I woke up.”

“On your own?” Damian asks. Bart hums, shaking his head. His eyes are on the ceiling. It’s easier that way.

“Nope! Doctor Fate had been doing something off-world or in another dimension or something, but he came back and said it was Klarion and they had a fight and I don’t…actually know who won, but once they were finished I woke up.

“But the thing was: in the time I’d been asleep, the first Flash – Jay Garrick – he. He’d looked after me, him and Joan, when I came back in time. And he was _old_. And when I woke up – he’d died. I’d missed it.”

Damian doesn’t say anything. For a few moments, neither does Bart. He just swings his leg, taking a certain satisfaction in the _bang_ it makes every time it hits the bench leg.

“After that, some shit went down,” Bart continues eventually, lowering his head back down to look right at Damian. “The Watchtower blew up. Superheroes died. And I just thought – fuck it. I’ve saved the world already. I’ve stopped the apocalypse, which was pretty much all I came back for in the first place. I just wanted to start living my life for me, y’know? Not for everyone else.”

Damian blows a bubble, pops it, and nods.

“I understand.”

Bart blinks. “You do?”

“Yes,” Damian announces decisively. He pops another bubble. “Perhaps in the future, I’ll make a similar decision. I suppose it depends on how my career goes.”

“Your Robin career or your Damian career?”

“Both.”

“Oh. Crash.”

 _“Tt.”_ So Damian doesn’t know what to say, either. “I’ll be going now.”

Bart grins, waving.

“See ya! We should hang out again sometime, I don’t have enough friends that point swords at me.”

Damian scoffs, but he doesn’t say no.

Once he’s gone, Bart’s eyes travel around the displays. He’s somehow always surprised by the high number of people that visit the Flash Museum. And that no one’s ever recognised him.

Bart stands, slips the pink star sunglasses back on, and walks into the late First Kid Flash Room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i headcanon gar and bart as rlly good friends lol  
> i know as a member of ~*the justice league*~ gar's designation shouldn't be B_19 anymore but i didn't rlly want to change it i like it  
> jesse quick is a speedster from the flash comics. i doubt she'll show up in the yj cartoon but One Can Hope  
> Another Fun Fact: the idea of Bart gradually sleeping more and more was the idea I had for a fic forever ago – one that I never wrote. It was intended to be a one-shot that ended with the team telling him to stay awake and the line “He doesn’t know if he can.” This version is somewhat happier. Somewhat.  
> thx for reading, i rlly appreciate the support! :)


	4. Oh Ana

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yooooo bart's new s3 costume tho  
> some of this was written not one but two years ago ignore me while i die from embarrassment  
> This Song: [Oh Ana](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hvMKIQAymGk) by Mother Mother.

_**I'll fake god today**_  
_**Hop up on a cloud and watch the world decay**_  
_**Ana on my shoulders and we'll laugh away**_  
_**Faking this god it can't be good for Ana's safety,**_  
_**Ana hear me, Ana baby, I'm not crazy.**_

_2020_

"Honestly, BC, I'm fine," Bart assures for what must be the ten-hundredth time. Dinah raises a sceptical brow.  _"Seriously!_ I know it probably seems like, I dunno, I went through some Great Trauma or something, but I was asleep the whole time! So no trauma. No need for the shrink-rap."

She stares for several seconds before she puts her pen down.

"You know, Artemis once told me that exact thing."

Bart frowns. "She did?"

Dinah nods her head. "Yeah. The whole team underwent a large trauma that I don't feel comfortable disclosing if you don't already know, but what I  _will_  say is that Artemis slipped into a coma. She said she didn't need help. She was wrong." Her fingers curl around the pen. Then they uncurl. "She was only unconscious for a few hours. Bart, you've been asleep for a  _month_."

"Yeah, and I'm fine."

A sigh escapes from Dinah's nostrils. There's irritation in her eyes, irritation that she's clearly trying to push back down. "Even if I choose to believe that you're 'fine' with the time that you missed...when you woke up, Jay had passed away." Bart flinches back on instinct, grinning to cover it up. Dinah's face fills with guilt. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't've phrased it like that. But that doesn't change what happened. It makes sense for you to be upset."

Bart shifts. He  _is_ upset, but it's not - he can deal with it on his own, alright?

"I'm not  _traumatised_  from a bit of sleep, BC, you've gotta believe me!"

She stares, lips pursing.

"I'm sorry, Bart. I don't think I can."

"Argh! Come on, what'll it take to convince you?"

Dinah quirks a brow.

"Some indication that you're not desperately trying to get rid of me."

Bart opens and closes his mouth a few times, the knowledge dawning that arguing against Dinah  _will_ , in fact, count as 'desperately trying to get rid of her'.

He hates being outsmarted.

"Bart," Dinah says, taking advantage of his silence. Lord knows it's rare enough. "There's nothing wrong with admitting needing help. The support of your friends and family is a big part in taking the first steps to recovery." 

_Recovery._ He doesn't really like that. It makes it sound like he's some war soldier or something, not a teenager that's just lost someone he was close to.

"I know you're just trying to help," he starts halting, letting an awkward smile take over his mouth. "And I get it, and I appreciate it. Really! But I'd rather just...deal with this on my own."

She's silent for a few minutes. Bart tries to look extra Totally Okay, and maybe it works because it's not long before she's breathing out slowly and nodding.

"Alright. But if you ever need help, don't be afraid to ask."

"I'll come right to you," he lies, and even manages to keep a straight face.

_2021_

"Jaime Jaime Jaime Jaime Jaime Jaime Jaime."

"Mmpf."

"Jaime Jaime Jaime Jaime Jaime Jaime Jaime Jaime Jaime Jaime Jai -"

"What -  _Bart?!"_

Bart beams, watching Jaime's eyes snap all the way open.

"Hey!"

"Wh - why are you in my flat?  _How_ are you in my flat?"

"Phased through the walls! And Tim told me where you live. But I had to promise not to set it on fire. And that I owe him another favour. Jaime, you live in Central City now! That's so crash!"

Jaime sits up, propping himself against the pillow and rubbing at his eyes.

"Yeah," he says. "I noticed."

"Anyway! IreallyreallyneedyourhelpJaimepleeeeaaase!"

There's a significant pause before: "Why."

"I need to find Jesse Quick! Do you know her?"

"Who's Jesse Quick?"

"I'll take that as a no. But whatever! I have to find her and talk to her and also talk to Artemis before she finds out I came back without telling her and yells at me and like hell I'm doing that alone and also a new burger place has opened up that I wanna try -"

"Wait, wait, wait." Jaime waves a tired arm, though he's getting rapidly more alert by the second. "You haven't talked to Artemis yet?"

"I was procrastinating," Bart admits, trying for an innocent smile. They've never worked on Jaime  _before_ , but who knows! He might get lucky! 

He doesn't. 

"The longer you put it off, the more mad she's going to be," Jaime points out. He's not wrong. 

"I know. I'm doing it anyway." Bart tilts his head. "You know when people have a big project that they keep delaying and delaying and the longer they put it off the more of a rushed last-minute job they'll have to do? This is like that." 

"And you - what, want me to push you into it?"

"Pretty much."

Jaime sighs, looking up at the ceiling. "You're lucky I don't have any classes today."

"So you'll help me? Thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou!"

"Yeah, yeah,  _de nada._ " But he's smiling fondly, rubbing the back of his neck. "You're lucky I don't have work, either."

"Wait, you  _have a job? An actual doing-things job?”_

“ _Sí_ , Bart, an actual doing-things job. Do you think my parents would’ve let me move out without a job to support myself with?”

Bart plonks himself down on the bed, grinning with excitement. _Maybe_ he’s vibrating slightly. But only slightly!

“That’s so crash! Tell me everything! Where is it? Is it fun? Do they know you’re Blue Beetle? How long have you been working there? Can I come?” He pauses, tilting his head. “ _Wait,_ doesn't Batman give you thanks-for-saving-the-world-money? He gave  _me_  some when I left so I could afford my cottage. And he expects us not to know he's a billionaire."

"Batman's a  _billionaire?"_ Jaime's eyes bulge before he shakes his head. "Never mind, I don't even want to know. But, yeah, I get some money from him, but I send it to my family. They need it more than I do. My job's only part-time, but it's enough to keep me going."

Bart sighs.

“Blue, you’re so pure it makes me want to cry.”

“Uh…thanks. I guess.”

“You guess right!” He jumps off the bed, heels bouncing in excitement. “Come on, if you’re coming! We have places to be!”

\--

There’s a border along the park’s grass, a thin grey strip that’s Extremely Fun to balance on. So Bart does. Obviously.

“Sometimes I forget that you’re not ten,” Jaime comments, walking exasperatedly slow by his side. Bart grins and snaps his fingers.

“I’m having fun, Jaime! What’s wrong with that? Why should only _kids_ get to do that?”

Jaime pauses, obviously can’t think of a good response, and says: “Huh.”

“So!” Bart jumps and lands back on the border, somehow managing not to fall. Jaime makes a face like he was fully prepared for Bart to die just now. “Jesse Quick! Where does she hang around?”

“I have no idea.”

“Well, then our first order of business would be to _get_ an idea. Where do speedsters usually hang out? And I don’t mean _me_ , obviously. Or Barry. Or Thad. Or -” He almost says Wally, but catches himself just in time. Bart jams his mouth firmly closed.

Jaime shifts.

“Speaking of Thad,” he ventures, shooting a look at Bart like it’s a touchy subject. Which is weird, considering it’s not. “He’s started popping up recently.”

“’Popping up’?”

“He’s hanging out with a few other – well, they’re not exactly _villains_. Except for Harley Quinn, I guess.”

Bart pauses, turning to face Jaime. His feet slip off the border for a petrifying few subjective seconds before he rights them carefully, praying that Jaime didn’t notice because _superspeed_ and start yelling about safety hazards.

“He’s hanging out with Harley Quinn? Ohmygod I’m jealous.”

Jaime shakes his head without rancour.

“Not just her. Red Hood – y’know, the second Robin – and Ravager have both tagged along for the ride. They’re calling themselves the Renegades.”

“Are we talking about the same Thad? Evil-Clone Thad? ‘Cos last I saw he wasn’t very good at making friends. By which I mean, the last _I_ saw was him running off into the Speed Force. Not that I blame him, because it’s reallyreallycoolinthere, but I didn’t really expect him to come _back_.” He pauses, brain short-circuiting. “Wait, you said Ravager? Do you mean Rose?”

Bart dated Rose Wilson for a rather memorable few months, at the end of which they figured they saw each other as friends. Thinking of which, Bart didn’t see much of Jaime in that time. He still doesn’t know what had him so preoccupied.

“Wilson? Yeah.” Jaime runs a hand through his hair. “I don’t know how that team-up happened.”

“Huh. Weird.” Bart quirks his mouth, eyes rising to the sky and squinting.

“You said it, _ese_.”

“Wait, I was talking about Jesse. You derailed me!”

“You derailed yourself.”

“And you let me!”

"Well. Yeah." Jaime pauses, hand rubbing the back of his neck. “Look, not to be that guy, but don’t you think you should see Artemis before running off to find this Jesse girl?”

Bart wrinkles his nose. Jaime is, as usual, right.

“ _Fine_. Tell you what, I’ll send her a message right now.” He pulls his phone from his pocket, logging into the message boards he apparently doesn’t need the tablets to access. “What do I say?”

Jaime shrugs.

“Just tell her you want to see her.”

“I can’t start with that.”

Jaime shoots him a weird look. “You’re being surprisingly thoughtful about this.”

“I don’t want to get yelled at.”

“You’ve been avoiding her for a year, Bart. I think she has the right to say whatever she wants to you.”

“Point. Okay, here I go.”

Bart types out a message that’s a pretty much a nice sandwich of _please don’t yell at me btw how’re you doing let’s meet up haha did I say don’t yell at me?_ Hopefully she’s still got the same number as when he left. The perks of an eidetic memory: having the numbers of everyone you know and love memorised. The downsides of an eidetic memory: having the numbers of everyone you know and love memorised. You can’t even kid yourself that you had no way to contact them.

“There!” he announces, sliding his phone back into his pocket before Artemis can respond in all caps. “Done and dusted!”

“Aren’t you going to wait for her to reply?”

“Ha haaaaa, no. A million times no. A _zillion_ times no. A – god-zillion times no.”

“Not a word, _ese_.” Jaime’s mouth has lifted at the corner. It’s kind of adorable. “So, this Jesse girl. How are you going to get in touch with her?”

Bart chews the inside of his cheek. “I have an idea.”

\--

There’s probably a lot of ways he could get into contact with Jesse Quick that involve asking the Bats and arranging to meet somewhere inconspicuously. Unfortunately, Bart’s not known for his patience or his common sense, so he comes up with a different solution that he wings pretty much straight away.

His “solution” is this: put on his Kid Flash outfit, walk up to Grandma Iris as she’s reporting, and wave at the camera.

“Hi!”

“B – Kid Flash!” Grandma Iris exclaims, recovering her composure pretty quickly. “You haven’t been seen in a little over a year, is there -”

“Is there a reason?” He shrugs. “I dunno. I’ll get back to you on that. But, hey, can I just get a message out?”

“I…suppose.”

“Thanks, Mrs West-Allen!” Bart turns to look straight at the camera, grinning. “If Jesse Quick happens to be watching this, then hi! I’ve heard you’re trying to get in contact with me so I just want to let you know that if you find me I’ll absolutely speak to you. I tend to bring attention to myself wherever I go so finding me should actually be reallyreallyeasy. Uh, I think that’s it. Thanks!”

And with that, he turns and walks back over to Jaime, who’s watching him bug-eyed.

“Dude,” Jaime hisses, looking like he’s about to have a heart attack. “What did you just do?”

“I went on TV.”

“I know _that_.” Jaime, in civilian clothes, has tried entirely too hard to be inconspicuous and has pulled his hood right over his head and has sunglasses throwing a shadow over his face. He looks like a gangster. Which is hilarious, because if anyone’s too much of a sweetheart to be a gangster it’s Jaime fucking Reyes. “Y’know, I think a year without you really messed me up. Now I expect people to be sensible.”

Bart grins, kicking at the ground. Behind him the cameras are probably filming this. He doesn’t even care.

“Her-man-o, there is literally no point in faffing about trying to be discreet when I could just solve my current problem by saying a jumbled greeting on national TV.”

Jaime opens his mouth to respond but pauses, eyes sliding past Bart’s head.

“Jumbled is the right word,” he sighs, lifting his glasses to rub at his eyes. “Come on, they’re about to come over here and as much as I feel like being plastered over the news, we have stuff to do.”

Bart digs his heels in the ground, shaking his head.

“Nuh-uh! We having exactly nothing to do. I mean, we’ve gotta wait for Jesse to come swooping in but other than that?”

“I need to go to the library.”

“The library?”

“Yeah. You know, the place where you can borrow books from?”

“Oh my gosh, you totally just taught me what a library is! My hero in armour!”

“Ha ha.” His voice may be flat, but Jaime is smiling. “Get changed and meet me in, let’s say – twenty minutes? That is, if you can actually go into a library without blowing up.”

“I _like_ reading.”

“Yeah, but you _don’t_ like staying quiet.”

“Good point! Counter point -” He pauses. “I didn’t think that far ahead, I don’t have one, you’re one hundred percent right.”

In Bart’s pocket his phone dings. He glances at the screen for exactly a second before wincing.

Jaime catches his expression. “Artemis?”

“Uh huh. She’s mad.”

“She has a right to be.”

“I know. That’s worse. Ugh.” Bart tilts his head back, squinting at the sun. Immediate regret. “Any chance I can delay this for like another year?”

“None.”

“Crash, crash, crashcrashcrashcrashcrashcrash -”

“Bart. Shut up.” He snaps his mouth shut, suddenly wildly aware that they are _in public_ and getting exactly nothing done. “Library. Twenty minutes. Sound good?”

“Uh huh,” Bart says, then turns and walks directly into Tim Drake. “Shit!”

“Language.”

“Grife!”

Tim smirks, raising a hand. “Hi. You two know that camera’s still filming you, right? You’re lucky I managed to cut the sound out of it.”

“How are you even here?” Bart demands. Tim doesn’t seem very attacked.

“You’re not exactly subtle with your location and I’m Batman’s sidekick. Enough said.”

‘Enough said’ is Tim’s answer to almost everything. Half the time it doesn’t even make sense. He rocked up at a Flash family party for No Reason and said “you dancing. Enough said.”

Bart’s weird, but Tim is a different _type_ of weird.

“So,” Tim starts, smiling in a way that bodes trouble. “You owe me favours.”

“Uh – yeah.”

“There’s a mission.”

“Okay.”

They stand in awkward silence for a few seconds before Tim clears his throat and says: “I need a speedster.”

Fuck.

“Get Barry to do it.”

“Barry has two children.”

“Barry isn’t retired.”

“ _Barry_ doesn’t owe me two favours. But Bart does.”

“I hate you.”

“Irrelevant.” Tim’s smile is evil. He should’ve been a supervillain. “Come to the base at 7. Be prepared.”

\--

Bart decides to make a scene.

If he’s going to show up a year after leaving, it might as well be with his signature dramatic flare. Besides, he needs some way to let his energy out after spending an excruciating half an hour in the library with Jaime picking out books. He was ready to start rearranging the shelves out of boredom.

He phases through the walls so he gets to announce it over the computer and strolls into the kitchen to see Arsenal, Arrowette and…someone else all chilling in there.

“Hey-o, Roy-joy!”

Roy pauses. “Oh my fucking god.”

“Kid Flash!” Arrowette abruptly stands up from her position on the couch, grin lighting up her face. “Oh my god, it’s really you!”

“Yup!” Bart settles comfortably on a stool by the counter, fingers drumming against the table. “It’ssupergoodtoseeyouall! Have you had a haircut?”

“What? Oh, yeah.” Cissie runs her fingers along the bottom of her hair, but into a sharp bob. “Do you like it?”

“Uh-huh!”

“Um,” a girl interrupts, lifting a hand. Her hair is in quite possibly the most impressive ponytail Bart’s ever seen, and he maybe sort of falls in love with it. “Mind explaining who this is?”

She jumps as Bart suddenly appears in front of her, grin stretching his face.

“Bart Allen, nice to meetcha!” He extends his hand, smile somehow getting wider when she cautiously takes it.

“Empress. Or Anita. You seem pretty lax with identities.”

“Yeah! You can call me Impulse if you want. Or Kid Flash. Or just Bart. Or – I dunno, Henry or something. Hey, some people go by their middle names, right?”

Roy pauses.

“Your middle name is ‘Henry’?”

“Ya-huh! You can thank my dad for that.”

“Oh, trust me.” Okay, Roy’s face is _really_ starting to freak him out. “I will.”

“Okayyyyy…subject change! Is Red Robin around? He wanted me for a mission or something.”

“Wait, today?” Cissie asks, looking vaguely startled. “I knew he and Static were on one tonight but I didn’t realise you’d be joining.”

“Neither did I! It was a horrible surprise!” Bart’s grin probably looks Forced And Manic. Good. “Is Static somewhere, then?”

“Games room,” Empress cuts in, eyeing him like he’s a complete weirdo who’s blundered in to stir trouble. To her credit, she’s not entirely wrong.

“Okay.” Bart says. “Bye.”

He’s probably not going to see them for years. He should hug them. Instead he just leaves.

Sure enough, Virgil’s in the games room. He’s alone, thank god. Bart’s not sure he can handle any more ‘haha I’m back hi but not for good yeah it’s my decision please respect it’.

He pokes Virgil in the back, because he can.

“Sup.”

Virgil perks up.

“Bart! You’re -”

His eyes roll. “Back, yeah, I think we’ve all already established that.” He flops down on a beanbag next to him, beaming. “So! Apparently we’re on a mission together tonight. It’ll be like the good old days.”

Virgil raises a brow. “The good old days of you annoying the shit out of everyone but being too vital to leave behind?”

“Yes. Exactly those days.”

“Great, ‘cause I missed them.” Virgil has a nice smile. It’s infectious. “It’s great to see you, Bart. You look – really well.”

“Thanks. I feel well. Or I _did_ , before I got dragged back here. Even though I kind of chose to. I dunno. My brain’s a mess.”

“I like your brain.”

“D’aww.” Bart makes his grin extra big to try and hide how much that makes his heart warm. Any idea what the hell this mission is?”

“Red Robin’s got suspicions about…something. I don’t really know. It’s more of a Bat family thing, I think. And you know how they are about getting other people involved.”

“They wouldn’t even let me come to Nightwing’s birthday party.”

“Exactly.” Virgil smirks, stretching. “I’m just there to short out the electricity. And _you’re_ there to phase through walls.”

“M’Gann can phase through walls.”

“She went to Mars yesterday.”

“Oh.”

“Come on, then,” Virgil stands up, offering a hand. “Let’s go get bossed around by Red Robin. It’ll be fun.”

\--

Getting bossed around by Red Robin is not fun. It _could_ be fun, if Bart was in the mood for it, but it’s one of those Rare Times he doesn’t want to be being a hero. Y’know, like the entire past year?

“If it makes it any easier,” Tim says when he complains. “Don’t think of yourself as a hero. You’re a spy now.”

Being a spy is mildly cooler, if only because saying “Allen. Bartholomew Henry Allen” is quite possibly the funniest thing he’s done all week.

“It’s funny because my surname’s so short but the rest is a mouthful,” Bart explains between gasps to Virgil and Tim, who both look Unimpressed. “If I say it really fast it’s even funnier. Allen. BartholomewHenry – I _can’t!_ ”

He means a mixture of _I can’t go on_ and _I can’t breathe_ , but Tim seems to take it as _I can’t wait to start this exciting mission!_

“Shut up, Kid Flash,” he says absently, tapping and swiping at some weird gadget. “Okay. Here’s the plan. Static, I need you to short out the building. KF, you’re going to phase through the walls. Once you’re inside I’ll be able to see what you see through your goggles. I’ll give you directions.”

Virgil nods as Bart says: “Got it.”

“On the count of three. One, two –”

\--

The mission goes surprisingly well, in that nothing goes wrong. Tim directs him to where the info he needs to steal is. He downloads it on the device he was given. He leaves. Virgil restores power in the building. They go back to the base.

It’s kind of disappointing.

He hugs Virgil goodbye, after. Bart’s still not sure how long he’s going to stick around. If he’s even going to bother with the energy.

And then it’s just him and Tim.

“You still owe me another favour, by the way.”

“Oh, grife.” Bart sighs, head tipping back. “So, what’ll it be? Another daring mission you want me to go on? A mysterious chest I have to guard and absolutely _must not_ open even if we all know that I will? A new speedster kid to mentor? Hit me.”

“Take care of yourself.”

“Huh?”

“That’s the other favour. I want you to take care of yourself.”

“Timmy, I’ve been taking care of myself for the past year.” Bart’s mouth quirks. “I know why you got me instead of Barry, you know.”

Tim pauses. “Oh?”

“You’re trying to convince me to come back to the team. You want to show me how great being a superhero is.”

There’s a good few seconds of Tim being silent like he’s trying to think of a good excuse. Then he sighs and tips his head back.

“Busted, huh?”

“It’s cool.” It’s not, but. He’s tired. He doesn’t want an argument. He just wants to go home. “It’s not happening, though. I left for a reason. Hell, I came back in time for a _reason_ and – it’s over now. I’ve done what I had to do. I don’t want to do anything else.” He shrugs jerkily. “Maybe that makes me selfish. I dunno. That’s just how I feel.”

“I get it.” Tim smiles. It’s kind. “I’ve been tempted before, you know. And I understand. But if you ever change your mind – we’ll be here. We’ll let you back in an instant.”

“Thanks. I guess.”

Tim nods.

After he leaves, Bart stares at the wall.

He loves them all, he does, but – they don’t understand. They think it’s just a phase. That the ‘thrills’ of being a hero are too much to resist.

But he’s just a kid. And he doesn’t want to die.

Outside the base the streets buzz with activity. Through the crowds he spots a parade, and around almost everyone is dressed like a hero. It’s nice to be anonymous in the uniform for once. It feels safe.  Comforting.

There’s a float for Kid Flash. The _old_ Kid Flash.

Bart’s just starting to blink back tears when someone taps him on the shoulder. Once his arm’s quickly rubbed across his eyes he makes out a bright outfit and blonde hair, a grinning face.

“Woah, hey!” He blinks. “You’re Jesse Quick!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the team up of tim-bart-virgil totes comes from them being next to each other on that s3 thing  
> thanks so so much for ur patience, i know i can take ridiculously long to write so i really appreciate ppl sticking with any of my stories.  
> any comments would really make my day <3


End file.
